


Lost and Found memories

by Shadecat



Series: TVD/TW crossover series [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadecat/pseuds/Shadecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Being a spark had its moments. Like when you could piece together some parts of the time you lost when hanging out with a vampire.-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found memories

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the 'Stiles as the primary character' prompt from [Teen Wolf Writing Contest](http://teenwolfwritingcontest.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.

Stiles had found himself mentally distracted lately. He'd catch a glimpse of something; ice blue eyes, black hair, a certain curve to a smile, and he'd find his mind trying to unweave the shadows that had been tossed over a part of it. He couldn't realize how hard that would be, how impossible it _should_ be, but perhaps it was the ignorance of the 'should nots' that let him partially succeed. Or maybe it was that spark Deaton had mentioned. Either way, between his dreams trying to show him what happened and his subconscious letting small things trigger it, he was getting snippets of those six and a half hours. 

Those snippets were distracting the hell out of him. When he'd catch a glimpse of anything that reminded him of Damon, there was an accompanying reaction. Blue eyes that were suddenly too close, but the flip in his stomach wasn't fear. Black hair that he swore he could feel slide through his fingers, tactile memory letting him know how soft it had been. That wicked curve to lips that he knew without a doubt in his mind were soft and searing, the flip in his stomach melting downward and making him fidget when he pulled himself out of his thoughts.

Whatever had happened, he didn't get any sense of dread or feeling of discomfort, so he was _pretty_ sure nothing had happened without his okay. The marks on his neck brought a flash of pain that melted into something else, something that had the fidgeting getting worse and made him hope to hell none of his teachers called him up to work on the board. It had been over a week and they'd healed up to nothing more than two red points on his neck, but the shiver he got when he touched them had turned the idle running of his fingers over them into something of a habit. 

His dreams, on the other hand, were making his already active private time turn into something that had to be dealt with immediately upon waking, as well as a couple extra times during the day after a particularly strong flash of repressed memories. Each time he hit that peak, he saw Damon's face in front of him, eyes intense and burning into him. His reaction to even the thought of that man was becoming almost embarrassing and he was kind of glad he hadn't seen him around again.

Walking down the hall towards history, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up, making him pause and look out the large windows lining the hall to his left. He caught a glimpse of black hair topping someone that looked like they were standing on the roof across the way, but a couple students walked between him and the window and when he looked again, the figure was gone. He stood there for a second before shaking his head, frowning to himself as he hurried along to class. "Pull it together, Stiles. You're seeing things."

So distracted was he, he didn't notice that he'd almost bumped into Lydia as they both went to enter the classroom together. He narrowly slipped in the door ahead of her, mind still not focused on his surroundings. He didn't notice the surprised look on her face when he didn't slip into his usual fawning self. Moving to seat himself, he was too busy wondering why he kept thinking he was seeing Damon in places he couldn't be and why he couldn't get the man out of his thoughts. He was just a _guy_. Okay, he was an insanely hot guy that looked like he should model underwear or be on posters saying 'This is why you want to have sex' or something, but he was _still_ just a guy. 

School was out before he knew it and Stiles found himself blinking out of another reverie to hear the bell sound. He was getting his stuff together at his locker when Scott leaned against the one beside his. "Hey." 

"Hey." 

He missed the look Scott gave him at the short answer, busy stuffing his jacket into his backpack. "Stiles? Is something up with you?"

Stopping what he was doing, he turned to give Scott his full attention. "What? No. Why? Do I _look_ like something's up with me?"

"Honestly? Yeah. You've been kind of... off ever since last week." Stiles' mind may drift from time to time, but he usually paid better attention to his surroundings than he had been lately. He'd seemed like he was off in his own little world or something. 

"Since... since last week? Yeah? Well, maybe it's an age thing. The distractions of being seventeen, right?" Crap. He hadn't known he was being so obvious in his little daydreams. 

Scott shrugged, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and looking down. "Maybe. We were actually joking that you'd run into a vampire or something." His eyes lifted to land on the two red marks that were almost healed. Stiles hadn't made any attempt to hide them and his answer of 'I don't know' when asked where he'd gotten them hadn't satisfied him, but they weren't serious wounds or anything.

"Hah!" The laugh almost bleated out of him in response, but the word 'vampire' was suddenly lit up and flashing neon in his head. It was an idea he rejected outright, but then he had to take a moment. Well, if there were _werewolves_ , why not the other thing that went bump in the night? He had to say more than that to Scott, though. "Dude, do you really think Dracula would stop in around Beacon Hills and try to make me one of his brides? Come on, Scott. Vampires and werewolves _hate_ each other. They're like, mortal enemies."

Scott grinned, ducking his head and pushing off from the lockers as Stiles zipped his bag shut and closed his locker. He fell into step beside his friend. "You're the one that knows all this stuff, Stiles. You knew I was a werewolf before _I_ did. Still, you have to admit, those marks..."

"It's just a coincidence, Scott. Seriously. I must have jabbed myself twice with something or leaned on something sharp. Besides, could you just see me as a bride of Dracula? Do you think he'd make me shave my legs?" Stiles got an almost thoughtful look on his face as he tried to figure out the dynamics of leg shaving and if he'd ever wax. His nose wrinkled and a look of 'eww' appeared on his face. No, no waxing. He hated taking off band-aids. No way could he handle stripping off his leg hair.

Laughing, Scott nudged him with his shoulder as they hit the doors to the outside world. This was more like the Stiles he knew. A quiet Stiles always worried him and he was just happy it hadn't been because of anything he'd done. "I don't know, Stiles. Your new friends from the club don't seem like they'd mind getting you dolled up."

Stiles groaned, head back as he let out all the exasperation he felt out in that one long sound. "Oh my _god_ , shut up. You were the one getting free drinks." Was he bitter about that? Did he sound bitter? Nope. Not at all. Not him. 

Scott headed over to the bike rack, key out to unlock it from the stand. "Jealous much?"

"No." Okay, even _he_ could hear the sullenness in his tone. "Shut up."

Laughing, Scott got his bike free and threw a leg over it, foot resting on the pedal. "I'm working late tonight, but how about we do something tomorrow after school? Pizza and studying? There's a chem test coming up..." He looked down, fingers fidgeting with a piece of loose rubber on one of the handles. 

"Yeah, sure. Tomorrow's good. I'll pick you up in the morning and we can go to your place after." He knew it was something of a peace offering. Scott had taken a while to mope about Allison, but he was slowly starting to come out of that little hole. Maybe it would get his mind off a certain mystery man. 

"Cool. I'll see you in the morning." Scott smiled at Stiles, giving him a light punch on the shoulder before starting to pedal away. "Don't get swept away by any vampires before then," he called over his shoulder, laughing at the finger that was shot at him.

Stiles made his way over to his jeep, muttering to himself about stupid friends and their stupid faces. Getting in, he pulled out of his spot and joined the queue waiting to pull out of the parking lot. Elbow resting on the open window, he propped his head up on his hand, right hand on the wheel as he waited for the cars ahead of him to move. _Finally_ it was his turn to exit, his head turning to look both ways. It turned back sharply enough to get a wince out of him when he saw a familiar blue Camaro with the top down. The car drove slowly in front of him, the man behind the wheel turning his head to give the teen a wide smirk and a wink before he passed him. 

Stiles didn't even think about it; he just pulled out after the car, ignoring the blaring horns of the cars he almost cut off as he stepped on the pedal and swerved out of the lot, only letting up when he was immediately behind Damon. He couldn't see the man's face from where he was, but he had a feeling the smirk had grown wider. This feeling was strengthened by the fact that Damon didn't seem to be in any rush, keeping his speed more than slow enough for Stiles to keep up with him. He even stopped at a yellow light so that the teen wouldn't lose him. He was _toying_ with him and the part that pissed Stiles off was how much it _didn't_ piss him off. What the hell was wrong with him?

It wasn't until they pulled onto his street that he realized the man was taking him back to his house. Again. He pulled up in front of Stiles' house, stopping the car and sitting there. Stiles pulled ahead of him, swinging into his driveway and barely putting the jeep in park before he was out of it, stomping down towards Damon in his car. He stood there on the passenger's side, hands down by his sides as he just stared blankly at him for a moment before he finally blurted out, "What are you _doing_ here?" 

Damon affected a small pout. "Aww, is that your way of saying you didn't want to see me again? I'm hurt." 

"Bullshit." Even as he said it, he realized his cheeks were flushed slightly and his stomach was doing that crazy twisting again. During the last week he'd convinced himself that Damon couldn't be as gorgeous as he'd thought he'd been. He'd obviously been playing him up in his mind, making him hotter than he had any right to be. He realized he hadn't done him justice. The word flashed in his mind again and his eyes dropped down to the smirking mouth. Nope, no fangs. 

"Language, Stiles. Is that any way to talk to a friend?" As if he could feel where Stiles' eyes were, Damon's lips parted and his tongue came out to wet them, his own eyes never leaving the brown ones scrutinizing him. 

The twisting in his gut flared and he sucked in a quick breath through his nose. "Huh? Yes, yes it is. You should hear how I talk to Scott." Not that Scott didn't deserve to be called a ginormous douchetard when he was being one, but hey, it wasn't like he'd actually insulted Damon. Yet. 

Damon's hand moved over to pat the seat beside him. "Why don't you sit down so we can talk?" 

_Ohgodyesplease_ , his mind suddenly screamed, his fingers twitching as he barely refrained from jerking open the door and sliding in. "Wh- Why? What do you want to talk about? We can talk here. See? We're talking right now. Face to face. The words are flowing like Spice." He mentally groaned. Did he seriously just make a Dune reference? Kill him now.

It surprised him when Damon's black brows went up and he laughed. The man's whole face lit up when he smiled and Stiles might have stared. Just a little. "Are you afraid I might bite?" 

Oh-ho. Stiles _so_ didn't imagine the way he looked at him when he said that. He saw the blue eyes flick to his neck and his hand lifted to play over the healed wounds. "Maybe." Afraid? No, not really. Afraid of how much he liked the thought, yeah, a little. And because he was who he was, he looked straight at Damon, fingers touching the red spots as he said, "You're a vampire, aren't you." It was less of a question and more of a statement. Things were falling into place in his head in that way they did; the lost time, the unnatural goddamn hotness of the man, the marks on his neck. He felt pretty comfortable making that assumption.

Damon's answer surprised him. "Yes. Are you going to run off and tell your little puppy pack now? Plan on finding out where I'm staying so you can group together with pitchforks and torches? Maybe pitchforks smeared in garlic?" The way he said it, he found little to no threat in the thought, either of being found out or of the fact that Stiles hung out with werewolves. 

"How did you know-- No, wait. Did you read my mind? Have you been lurking around as a bat or fog or something?" Because that totally happened in Dracula. 

"Don't put too much stock in the movies, Stiles. Or do. I don't care. It might be funny to see you waving a cross at me." 

He chewed his lip. "So... crosses don't work? Or garlic? What about holy water?" Sunlight was clearly also a lie since it was shining brightly overhead and Damon looked anything but crispy. 

Damon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "No. Now, why don't you get in the car and we can chat about this somewhere less public." 

"Why? Are you going to bite me? Again? Did you bite me?" His fingers played over the marks again, already knowing the answer to that.

"Yes."

"Why? Am I going to turn into a vampire now? Is that what you're doing? Trying to... to... _recruit me_?" He tried to picture himself with fangs and bat wings.

"Because you asked me to. And if I recall correctly, you enjoyed it." His smile widened and he did something with his eyes that made them look like they were trying to actually _touch_ him. Oh god, why was that hot? 

"I did not." He knew it was a lie before it finished leaving his lips. He could almost hear himself asking to be bitten, hand tangled in black hair that felt like silk as that smirking mouth left his-- 

Oh crap.

Damon patted the seat again. "Get in."

Stiles found himself opening the door and sliding in, closing the door behind him and looking over at Damon. "Are you going to kill me?"

Damon's gaze moved over him, an unknown look behind those pale eyes. "I haven't decided yet." 

"Are you going to today?"

Starting up the car, Damon smiled. "No."

Nodding, Stiles slid his seat belt over his chest, clicking it in place as the vampire - _vampire_ \- pulled away from his house. "Okay then. Just so we're clear on that. I have to pick Scott up in the morning, so no death today." 

Damon snorted a laugh, eyes sliding sideways to look at his passenger with an amused expression. "No, not today. I'll most likely kill you in the morning." 

Stiles blinked and looked at the vampire with wide eyes. "Did you just quote the Princess Bride at me?" Where had this guy been all his life?

"Please. If you can throw Dune references around, I can do the Princess Bride. Besides, it was a good book." Damon turned the wheel at the corner, taking them to the right and heading away from Stiles' house. 

_Iloveyou_ , his mind squeaked and Stiles pressed his lips together to make sure _that_ embarrassing little brain fart didn't make its way into the light of day. "Where are we going?" 

"Does it matter?" 

Did it? He was in a car with a vampire that had already sucked his blood once and who seemed to like doing whatever he could to throw the teen off balance. "If it's to your crypt, I think we need flashlights first." 

Damon groaned, giving Stiles a pained look when they hit a light. "Let me say this once; the movies are bullshit. So are the books. Nothing in them is going to be right, so just accept that now and save yourself from any more dumb questions." Well, aside from the blood drinking and the bursting into flame in sunlight, but he wasn't going to share that with Stiles. The less a human who hung out with werewolves knew about his weaknesses, the better. 

"Okay, fine." There was a full thirty seconds of silence. "So what _is_ true?"

His grin grew. "Why would I take all the fun of you finding that out for yourself away from you?"

Stile would _really_ like to know how this guy could make his insides feel like they were being electrocuted and jumbled around with a few words. Maybe it was a vampire thing. "You drink blood." Another statement. Stiles had the marks to prove that one.

"Yes." 

"Can you eat regular food?"

"Yes, and I happen to love Italian." He smiled and hit the accelerator.

"Do you sleep?"

"Yes, but there are so many more entertaining things to do in a bed."

He didn't notice the small noise that slipped free from that answer, too busy shifting in his seat and trying not to bring attention to that. "Ah. Um. Right." Was he blushing? Oh god, please tell him he wasn't. 

Damon had pulled up through the open gates of a foreclosed property, and Stiles turned to look back at the the iron bars as they drove through. There was something familiar about them. "What are we doing here?"

"I hate hotels." The answer was given as he pulled up to the steps, turning off the engine. 

"You're _staying_ here? But... it's foreclosed. That's breaking and entering." 

Damon leaned over and opened Stiles' door for him, purposefully lingering in his space. "You going to tell daddy on me?"

"No." He smelled like leather and some really subtle cologne that he almost leaned closer to get a better whiff of. Goddamn sexy vampires. "So, you're squatting." 

"Call it what you want. I have a huge house all to myself and I don't have to worry about the maids going through my things." He got out on his side, closing the door and heading up stairs, not waiting for Stiles as he entered the house. 

Stiles unbuckled himself and got out, closing the door behind him and jogging up the stairs, stairs that were equally naggingly familiar. "Did we come here last time?" 

Damon looked over when Stiles entered the house and came into the living room, having gone over to the wet bar he'd set up and pouring himself a drink. "You're remembering things? That's... interesting." 

"Are you going to make me forget again?" Stiles slowly came in, looking around a room that he remembered being in with darker lighting. It was night. There'd been music playing. 

Taking a sip of his drink, Damon gave him a shrug. "What would be the point? Seems there's something up with you that makes it somewhat moot. Besides, if you can keep your little pound puppies a secret, I think you can manage the same for me." 

"You know about them?" Stiles moved over the couch; a dark burgundy with a velvety cover. He sat, remembering feeling the plushness of it under his hand and comparing it to the feel of the dark hair his other hand was buried in. 

"It would be hard not to. They're not very subtle." Damon came over, watching Stiles' face as thoughts flickered over it. He sat, drink resting on his leg. "I'm surprised there's a secret there to keep."

"They're not _that_ bad." It was said defensively, but he knew even as he said it that it wasn't true. They were bad enough that he'd had to use most of his wiles to keep his dad from stumbling into the situation more than he already had. "Okay, so they are, but it's not like they're going around hurting anyone." 

"Yet." Damon took another sip, eyes on Stiles over the rim of his glass. 

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. It was something he worried about constantly, especially whenever his dad had to deal with wolf crap. It wasn't fair that he didn't know. The Argents, Gerard in particular, had made a huge mess of everything. Maybe some people might be safer if they knew things, some people like his dad. Scott's mom knew, but everyone was telling Stiles to keep his mouth shut in terms of telling the sheriff. He hated it. "What are you doing in Beacon Hills?" Obvious topic change was obvious.

Twirling the glass over his leg, Damon answered. "I felt like something different. That and it had been a while since I'd been west. Why do you ask so many questions?" 

Stiles blinked, fingers laced together in his lap as he looked over at Damon. "Because how am I ever going to know anything if I don't?" He had people to look after, whether they wanted him to or not. 

"So you plan on saving them all? How _noble_." There was something in Damon's tone that implied it was anything but.

It bothered Stiles enough to have him scowling, crossing his arms across his chest. "What do _you_ know about it?"

"More than I want to." 

Okay, now he felt bad for that. He uncrossed his arms, dropping them down and twisting his lips as he looked at Damon. He had a million questions bouncing around in his head and he didn't know which one he wanted to ask first. "Did we do anything when I was here last time?" He mentally winced. _That_ was the one that slipped out? He needed a better brain to mouth filter. 

"Yes." The one word answer was paired with a salacious smile, a smile that had his stomach doing cartwheels and flips again.

"Um... what did we do?" 

"Nothing you didn't want to." The smile lingered, Damon's attitude turning teasing as the conversation switched to a topic he was more happy to play with. 

"Did we...?" He couldn't bring himself to ask it, but he didn't look away from Damon even though his cheeks were flaming. 

"Have sex? No." Even as he said it, Damon's eyes moved over Stiles in that way that made him feel like he was being touched. 

"But we did... stuff." 

The smile grew wider. "Yes. You were quite enthusiastic." 

Oh god. Oh god. Kill him now. He was _enthusiastic_? With a vampire? The first day he'd met him? And he'd let him drink his blood? His voice was strained when he asked, "How enthusiastic?" 

It was clear Damon was enjoying the hell out of this. " _Very_. I've figured out that you're vocal in everything you do." 

He couldn't stop his hands from coming up and hiding his face. "Oh god." 

"If it's any consolation, you beg very prettily." 

" _Oh god_!" 

"You said that a lot then, too."

If he was lucky, the couch would open up into an alternate dimension and suck him into it, one where he hadn't made a complete ass of himself. "I hate you." 

"You wouldn't be the first." The vampire's tone was smug and full of satisfaction and Stiles wanted to make him stop talking. The problem was that every time he thought of a way to do that, it involved his mouth on Damon's. Oh god.

"You're enjoying this." It came out like an accusation, especially since Stiles couldn't bring himself to meet Damon's eyes. 

He could see Damon's legs shift, watched as the glass was lifted and then set down on the table as he turned more towards Stiles on the couch. "So much." 

Slowly, his eyes lifted to the amused blue ones watching him. Another question blurted its way free. "Why me?" 

"Why _not_ you?" He moved so he was closer on the couch, a smug grin on his face as he did, waiting for the next comment the teen made. 

'Why not me' was a question he'd asked himself a million times; over the werewolf bite, over Lydia, over his mom dying, over a host of things that jostled for attention in his head. "Because... Because." 

"Very eloquently put." Damon's head rested on his hand, elbow propped up on the couch as he sat there, close enough that Stiles could reach over and touch him, if he wanted. 

He did. He wanted to see if the reality of the way his hair felt was as good as the memory. Or if he tasted the same as the thought he did. He didn't realize he'd licked his lips until he saw Damon's eyes move down to them. What the hell was he doing? He was in some abandoned house alone with a vampire who'd already used mind control powers on him before. A vampire that he was ridiculously attracted to and who _knew_ that and seemed to use it to his advantage. "Is this whole unnaturally hotness you have going on a vampire thing?" 

That pulled an honest smile from Damon. "Sorry, but no. I was this perfect as a human." 

That was totally unfair. "You suck-- Wait, no. I didn't say that." 

Another laugh, Damon's eyes crinkling in the corners. "I do. And I do it very well." 

Oh. Oh, wait. Did he mean the _other_ kind of... oh. Stiles' face flared red again as he crossed his legs, pulling his shirt down a little as he did. Not fair, sexy vampire. Not fair at all. He cleared his throat before speaking, not that it helped since there was a definite squeak halfway through the single word. "Oh?"

"I'd be happy to show you, for clarification's sake." 

So not fair. It was _painfully_ unfair. Good thing he hadn't worn anything tight today. His eyes couldn't settle on a single part of the man in front of him, moving all over the places he wondered if he'd already visited. He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a very unmanly squawk as his phone vibrated in his pocket, making him jump. Scrambling to dig it out because _ohmygodvibratingtooclosetomy--_ , he felt an almost physical blow of disappointment as he saw the call was from his dad. "Dad? What's up?" 

Damon's brows lifted as Stiles answered the phone, more than a little amused at the reaction. "Hey kiddo. I was planning on picking up something for dinner. You want a sub or a burger?" 

Reality came crashing back in on Stiles, reminding him that there was a whole world he had to deal with that didn't have anything to do with Damon. "Um, sub, but only if you make sure you get one of the heart smart ones." 

The sigh over the phone would almost have been audible to Damon if he _hadn't_ been a vampire. "Fine, I'll pick up something on your _approved_ list. I'll be home in a half hour."

"Okay, dad. I'll see you then." He looked up at Damon as he ended the call, sliding the phone back in his pocket. "Um, I have to go." 

"I heard. I suppose we'll have to take a rain check on me proving my skills." With a pointed look at Stiles, Damon pushed himself up off the couch and gestured for the door. "Let's get you home before daddy comes looking for you." 

Well, that partially answered his 'how good are vampire senses' question. He stood quickly, turning so that Damon wouldn't notice anything that may or may not be amiss in and around the general area of his pants. He made his way quickly to the door, jogging down the stairs and jumping into the car. Damon made his way down at a more sedate pace, getting in the car and closing the door before looking over at the teen. "Buckle up." 

Stiles scrambled for the seat belt, clicking it into place as Damon pulled around and drove for the gate. "Are you staying here long?" It was a very roundabout way of Stiles asking if he'd maybe see him again. Maybe. Possibly. Please say yes. 

"Long enough." Turning on to the road, he looked over at Stiles with a smirk. "Why, missing me already?" 

"Shut up." He sunk down in the seat, arms crossed over his chest. "No." Maybe. Yes. 

Damon laughed again, the drive back to Stiles' a quicker one than the one to Damon's shanghaied overly large house. "I'll be around for a while."

If that happened to make the little hamster in the wheel in his head do a backflip, so what? He tried not to let it show, but he did straighten in his seat more, enjoying the short ride. When Damon pulled up in front of his house, he was almost reluctant to get out. There were still so many questions he wanted to ask. Things he _needed_ to know. He looked at him, hand resting on the door handle. "Thanks. I mean, for not killing me or doing the Jedi mind trick." 

"Don't thank me yet." He turned towards Stiles, blue eyes suddenly looking entirely captivating. "Kiss me." 

He didn't even notice he'd moved until he realized he could taste him on his lips, lips that were pressed to the ones that seemed to permanently smirk at him. He knew he could draw back now, that whatever weird vampire brain powers Damon had, he couldn't keep him kissing him forever. He hadn't said to do that. But he didn't, not just yet. He let his mouth part enough that his tongue could peek out to lick over one of Damon's lips, a soft sigh leaving him. He remembered this. He remembered a more _enthusiastic_ kiss, with him straddling Damon's lap, hands buried in his hair as he licked into his mouth, his body screaming for more. 

Damon broke the kiss, drawing back and looking at the glassy look on Stiles' face. "Now you can thank me." 

A light blush over the bridge of his nose, Stiles looked between the blue eyes and the tempting lips, licking his own to get the lingering taste of Damon. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Thank you." His hand fumbled with the door handle, opening the door and trying to get out before he remembered he was still buckled in. Depressing the button, he got out of the car when he was untangled, closing the door and watching Damon move to pull out away from the curb. "Wait, when will I see you again?" 

"Soon." The vampire threw him a wink before pulling out and driving away, presumably back to his temporary residence. Stiles stood there, hand lifting to his lips, then back to the marks on his neck. He, Stiles Stilinski, was best friend with a werewolf, tangled up with more werewolves, had fought against an Alpha and a kanima, had duked it out with hunters, had some sort of spark, and he'd made out with and been fed on by a vampire. None of it made sense, but he was oddly reluctant to change any of it, either. 

With his lips still tingling from the kiss, Stiles turned and headed towards his house, ready to slip into the role of dutiful son for an evening with his dad. But until he got there, maybe Stiles could take a few minutes for himself. After that, he knew he'd need it. Damn vampire.


End file.
